How Many Times?
by monkeykiddo1
Summary: Arthur has been told what Merlin has done for him. How many times he's been close to death. But a new scar shows him that sometimes knowing with your mind and knowing with your heart are two very different things. Merthur implied. Oneshot


Arthur's eyes traced the movements of the boy in front of him. The lithe form gathered his (their) dishes from dinner as the shadows danced across face. He hummed deep in his throat as Merlin finally glanced up at him. Red crept up his face, despite the grin gracing his face.

A smirk came on Arthur's face; his fingers danced up the smooth skin of Merlin's arm. They would have continued up their **completely innocent** path when they crossed an unusal, and definitely not there this morning, bump on their road. His eyebrows furrowed together. He tugged Merlin a little closer, pushing the rough-spun shirt up just a little.

"Arthur what are yo-"

"Hush." He traced his finger across the thin puckered line. Not from a sword, too small, so not during training. Too straight and clean, so he didn't trip and fall on broken glass. Arthur's spine shivered at the suppressed memory, though it never could stop the scream from echoing. He ran his fingers over the scar again, eyes looking up to his writing table. A glint from the ornate handle caught his attention. A birthday gift from one of the nobles of his court. A dagger could cause a small clean cut.

"Merlin?" Said man tilted his head in answer. "When did you get this scar?"

His eyes widen slightly, oh so slight that most wouldn't noticed. "Oh. I think." His other hand reached up to hold his chin. "A few days ago. When I was cleaning the weapons you don't normally use." Merlin gave a one-sided smile. "One of the daggers slipped as I was putting it away. Nothing to worry about."

Merlin jerked his arm out of Arthur's grip, shuffling over to the dirty dishes. Arthur growled. His hand shot out to spin the warlock around. "Don't be daft _Mer_ lin." He pulled the arm in question up between them. "This was not here a few day ago. In fact, it wasn't here this morning." His eyes soften. "You don't have to lie to me anymore, remember?"

He felt, more than saw, the flinch and the sheepish grin that followed. "Sorry. Got caught in the habit, I guess." Arthur's heart clenched together. Pulling Merlin against him, Arthur wrapped his arms around him, tucking the warlock's head under his chin.

Minutes stretched between them. Arthur took to rubbing his thumb between Merlin's shoulder blades, feeling the tension release. He smiled at the sigh that escaped Merlin's lips. The fire cackled next to them, casting a warm glow in the room.

"It was an assassin." Arthur's eyes widen at the sudden words. Merlin burrowed a little bit into his neck. "One of the new stable boys. He kept asking me strange questions, more than a new person would ask."

Merlin swallowed, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist. "Nothing magic related. I would have noticed him faster if that was the case." He gave a humorless chuckle. "Almost got to your father's bedroom before I got him. I managed to stop him but I didn't see him throw the dagger." He squeezed Arthur a bit closer to him. "I had to heal myself so I wouldn't bleed to death."

Arthur froze. Bleed to death. His Merlin was close to death today and he hadn't known. He buried his nose into the black hair, breathing in the musky smell of books and oak. His hand brushed down to where he was told another scar laid, hidden underneath a thin layer of cloth. Barely bigger than his finger but much more deadly. He curled his fingers at the hem of the shirt.

"Show me?"

Merlin leaned back. "Show you…"

He swallowed. "Show me your scars."

His hand flew protectively in front of his chest, right above his heart. "But…why?"

"I want to see" Arthur blinked his eyes quickly "how many times you needed me." He stroked a finger against Merlin's chin. "And I wasn't there."

Merlin stared into his eyes. Whatever he was looking for he must have found for he gave Arthur a small smile. With a quick peck to his lips, he carefully pulled off his shirt. Arthur stood stiffly as his gazed wandered along the pale skin. Surprisingly more muscle than he would have expect, but Merlin always surprised in, but certain marks kept his gaze locked.

His hand jarringly rose to trace a pale red scar in the middle of Merlin's chest. It felt smooth beneath his fingers. He shuddered, even though he was only told the story. Merlin willingly tried to trade his life for a prince who didn't even know him.

Without his conscious effort, his fingers traveled down to the lower back, following the small indent inside Merlin's skin. Serkets. A creature no one survived against. Something that Merlin survived, but only barely.

Arthur didn't noticed the tears until Merlin's careful fingers swiped below his eyes. With eyes as wet as his own, Merlin gently led his hands to the back of his neck, underneath where his neckerchief usually sat. He leaned into Arthur, giving him access to see the yellowish skin. "Fomorroh. Forced me to…do things that weren't me. Hurt like hell coming in."

He barely kept in a sob as he pulled Merlin into a crushing hug. His hand remained at the scar, drawing small circles into the skin. "Idiot."

Merlin chuckled quietly. "I love you too prat."


End file.
